


Crave

by Zenniet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bottoming from the Top, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, Smut, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenniet/pseuds/Zenniet
Summary: Magnus is in heat and Swerve is there to take care of him.
Relationships: Swerve/Ultra Magnus
Comments: 1
Kudos: 63





	Crave

Magnus was jittery all day. It was taking a toll on his processor, too, since he could barely work or type or do  _ anything _ like this. It had been a while since his last heat hit him, and he recalled being absolutely miserable for the duration of it. Sure, Rodimus gave him time off without the bigger mech even having to ask for it, though what some may see as a time to rest, he saw as time he would have to be alone and impatient in his habsuite with a toy so far up his valve he ought to be tasting it. 

But this was the first time he was having a heat during which he actually had a partner who could take care of him.  _ Take care of him _ . Magnus despised knowing that that was what he would have to ask Swerve to do. They were both full grown mechs, they shouldn’t have to have  _ anybody _ taking care of them. Though he did find pleasure and satisfaction in doing what some may consider such for Swerve. Escorting him to his shift, being there to take him back to their room afterwards, making sure that Swerve had enough fuel through the day and- though Magnus wasn’t the best at it- lending a listening ear to the mini whenever he had a suspicion that Swerve was feeling particularly down.

Swerve hadn’t noticed anything when Magnus had walked him to the bar that day, though, that was before any of the signs of his heat started to show themselves. It was only when Magnus had gone into his office afterwards that he had a sneaking suspicion of how the rest of the day was going to go. That suspicion was confirmed when he tried to type on a datapad and his digits shook so much that the words that came up on the screen may as well have been in a different language.

It was midday before Magnus even started considering leaving his shift early and going back to their habsuite. Though, once he started considering it, he was quick to come around to the idea, and ended up acting on it before any serious signs of his heat started showing. He would be mortified if someone caught him in such a state, so he just called his leaving early a sort of ‘preventative measure’.

Walking to his habsuite, his footsteps sounded thunderous, at least to him. Magnus stressed over his posture, where he was keeping his servos, how loud he was, fearful that any little thing would immediately let everyone around him know what was going on on the short walk to his hab. As far as he knew, as of the time of him leaving his office, he didn’t show any outward signs of his heat. His panels stayed shut, his face wasn’t flushed, and his cooling fans were turned off. Whether that changed on the walk to the room, he wasn’t sure. He was too preoccupied with moving as fast as possible while still remaining inconspicuous.

His servo almost dented the paneling of the door when he opened it. He was surprised that he didn’t hear the berth break when he immediately threw himself onto it. Magnus let his legs hang off of the foot of the berth, his back against the padding but helm not quite reaching the pillows. He didn’t care.

Panel shifting aside far too slowly for him, he instantaneously plunges two digits into himself and started working them fervently. He stroked his inner walls, jabbing his digit tips against his interior node in a way that would have been far too rough for his liking under any other circumstances, but now was different. Now, it had him arching off the berth, pedes tiptoeing on the floor so he could buck up into his servo.

Ultra Magnus, usually one of the most vigilant mechs on the ship, didn’t even hear the door open. He did hear it shut, though, and that caught his attention. Reluctantly pulling his digits from his valve, he propped himself up on his elbows to look at the door.

“Swerve?” He called, voice hoarse despite its lack of use. He knew it could only be the minibot, he was the only other mech with the access code to this room.

The door creaked open again and Swerve peered around the side of it, still not daring to enter the room.

“If- Okay, I know I should’be knocked, but I was worried!” His gaze was turned to the floor as he explained himself, “Word travels fast, you know? I heard that you’d left your shift early and I didn’t know what was going on so I left to come find you and I’m just- I’ll show myself out-”

“No!” Magnus barked, sitting up so fast he almost flung himself to stand and chase Swerve down before he could escape. Swerve, as inexperienced as Magnus was in terms of affection, slammed the door in surprise. Seeing the mini’s reaction to  _ his _ reaction, Magnus took a breath and lowered his voice. “Swerve, please, don’t tell me you aren’t aware of what is happening to me.”

Magnus was certain that the berthroom, no, the whole habsuite must be drenched in the scent of his heat by now. Swerve was a metallurgist, now a bartender, and one that designs his own drinks, nonetheless. There was no way that he didn’t have a working olfactory sensor. He sure hoped so, because he couldn’t bring his lips to say the words.

“I- Yes, um, and that’s why I’m giving you space to uh- do your thing?” Swerve spoke from the other side of the door. Magnus couldn’t believe that he was talking to the same mech who saw it fit to accost him in his bar on multiple occasions. 

“Swerve,” Magnus cringed at how rough he sounded, “I need your help for this.  _ Please _ .” He couldn’t stand prolonging this exchange any longer. A red helm poked out from behind the door again. Swerve was met with the sight of Ultra Magnus, his partner, seated at the edge of the berth with his knees pressed firmly together, though it didn’t hide the mess that his lubricant made on his thighs or the sheets below them. 

For a second, Swerve had to fight the urge to look away, to give him his privacy. It wasn’t that they hadn’t interfaced before, Swerve had never actually  _ seen _ Magnus’ valve. He wasn’t ever on the giving end of anything, and he honestly didn’t have a problem with that. Not only was Swerve unused to the notion of  _ giving  _ like that, but he also had never witnessed Magnus in such a desperate state. A state in which Swerve was the first bot Magnus asked for help from. If only for that alone, Swerve felt almost obligated to assist. Not that he didn’t want to anyways, he just had to get over his nerves.

One heavy pede in front of the other, he approached Magnus, shutting the door behind him. 

“Uh, how do you want to do this?” He asked, climbing up onto the berth. 

"Anyhow," Magnus groaned, getting irritated with the mini's nervousness, but once he caught himself harboring those feelings he tried to take a deep breath and calm down. It wasn't Swerve's fault, he had to keep that in mind. Besides, the way Swerve blushed and the faces he made were endearing. Magnus moved up the berth to give Swerve some space between his legs, which he more than eagerly spread. 

Swerve's servos fell on Magnus' quivering thighs, the ex-enforcer throwing an arm over his optics. He couldn't bear seeing the way that Swerve looked at him now. His expression had morphed from nervousness to curiosity and.. Admiration? He felt so  _ looked at _ . If it weren't for the rancorous craving that gnawed at his insides, Magnus would have just shooed Swerve out of the room to begin with. Instead, he waited impatiently for the minibot to make a move because every fiber of his being yearned for Swerve and only Swerve. 

Some part of Swerve felt lecherous for looking at Magnus in such a way. With such a hunger inside of him. He had to remind himself that Magnus wanted this, that he was helping him by doing this. Smothering all the self doubt he had, Swerve made a move. 

He lowered his helm and pressed his lips to the crux of Magnus' thighs, the soft derma nestling against Magnus' sensitive mesh. That evoked a reaction immediately, his large servo gripping at the berth sheets and pulling them loose off the edges of the padding. Then, Swerve tentatively poked his glossa out and licked up Magnus' anterior node, drawing out another response that had heat pooling in Swerve's array. Frag, he wished he could see over Magnus' plating to catch a glimpse of what expression he must be pulling. Swerve would settle for hearing his delicious moans and gasps, and feeling the shiver of his thighs next to his helm, for now. 

Warmth was already pooling in Swerve’s frame as he leaned back, the back of his servo wiping some of the copious smears of lubricant from his face. He freed his spike and used his other servo to line up with Magnus’ leaking valve.

That notion hit him again. That thought that he wouldn’t be good enough, that Magnus wouldn’t feel good. Magnus was a big mech and Swerve was tiny, there was no dispute about that and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

But Magnus had  _ asked _ for this. For Swerve specifically. He had to at least try.

Swerve pushed into Magnus’ valve, his plating coming flush with the soft mesh much quicker than he would have liked. Swerve would have fled the scene if he had gotten any other reaction besides what he did receive: a lewd, unrestrained moan from Magnus as the larger bot arched his back and gripped at the berthsheets.

“Ma-Magnus, frag, your valve is t- _ tight _ ,” Swerve was honestly surprised at the sensation of the larger mech’s valve clenching down on him. Magnus was already past the point of giving any coherent response, his frame giving a tremble hard enough to rattle his plating. 

Magnus’ legs shook around Swerve’s little frame, the large mech too engulfed in his pleasure to offer up any response to the pleasured babbling that fell from Swerve’s lips. It was already taking all his wits to keep his servos on the berth instead of reaching out and trying to pull the mini closer against him as he longed to do. Magnus wasn’t usually a cuddly mech, but his heat made him want nothing more than to hold Swerve up against his frame as he got fragged into the berth.

Might as well give it a shot.

His huge, heavy servo reached out and settled on Swerve’s back, pushing. Swerve easily got the cue and leaned over Magnus, using the length of his arm to essentially hug his frame to Magnus’. Magnus let out a low moan in response, his heated plating singing with the charge at the contact points between their frames. He writhed under Swerve, his overload getting closer and closer. 

The slick heat of Magnus’ valve quivered around Swerve’s spike. He felt the mesh tense as clench around him. That feeling, combined with the sound of Magnus’ lewd moaning and the wet noise of the mini’s plating coming into contact with the valve mesh was getting to be too much from Swerve. His processor couldn’t be bothered to really think about anything besides singlemindedly chasing his overload.

“Frag, Magnus, yeah, your valve’s so wet and  _ hot _ . All for me, huh?” Swerve’s servo snaked between their frames and he used his thumb to rub sweet circles around Magnus’ pulsing anterior node, making the mech gasp and growl. “This slick valve all for me. And I’ll be with you for your whole fraggin’ heat, I’ll get to frag you through it.”

“Y-Yes!  _ Swerve! _ ” Magnus shouted, his teetering on the edge of his overload, charge licking at every one of his circuits.

The sound of Magnus crying Swerve’s name was what sent the mini over the edge. With a howl, Swerve slammed into his overload and into Magnus. His spike throbbed, he grit his dentae and powered down his optical feed. His hips twitched against Magnus’ in minuscule thrusts, emptying his transfluid into him.

The thick pink fluid flooded into Magnus’ valve, coating his inner walls and rushing up to his gestation chamber. He had blockers engaged, nothing would come of this, but the very thought of being sparked up by Swerve had Magnus moaning and thrashing through his overload. His servos pulled the berthsheets free from where they were tucked in, his valve clenched hard on Swerve’s spike and milked all the transfluid it could from it.

Magnus came down shivering and with Swerve slumped and panting on his belly. 

“H-How was that?” Swerve huffed between vents. Magnus lazily propped himself up on his elbows and nodded.

“Good, good. Come here.” Magnus patted the berth at his side. 

Swerve slowly pulled out of Magnus, the sensation of his valve around his oversensitive spike made him wince. Transfluid sloshed out of the used port as soon as Swerve’s depressurizing spike was free from Magnus’ valve, but surprisingly the larger mech showed no real reaction to that.

As soon as Swerve was up where Magnus had called him to be, Magnus scooped him in up in his arm and put him at the head of the berth, pulling blankets over the both of him and huddling Swerve up against his chest.

“Uh, Mags? The mess?” Swerve commented offhandedly, knowing that Magnus usually wanted to clean up after they fragged, or at least that’s how it went when Swerve was the one being fragged.

“I’m tired. I’d like some rest before I need to sate my heat again.” He explained with a soft, worn voice and half lidded optics. Swerve nodded and pressed himself up against Magnus, taking advantage of this rare moment where Magnus was actually seeking out this sort of physical contact. 

Swerve could remember that he’d mentioned something about being there to take care of the rest of Magnus’ heat, and he was looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Done as a request! Find out how to request stuff from me [here!](https://zenniet.tumblr.com/post/189864077750/how-to-request)


End file.
